


Spring and Politics: Bastardy

by bendthekneejon



Series: Moments: Spring and Bliss [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Peace, Spring, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 14:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendthekneejon/pseuds/bendthekneejon
Summary: The War has been won, Spring has come. Jon and Dany are the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Dany proposes a law that catches Jon off guard (in a good way).A scene about how Jon and Dany rule in times of peace, as opposed to times of war.From Jon’s POV.





	Spring and Politics: Bastardy

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by the lovely @theendlessrivers. Danke sehr, mein Schatz <3

One evening, during one of the first weeks of spring, the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Jon and Daenerys Targaryen, were attending a small council meeting in the Red Keep. Surrounding the table beside them were a number of their most trusted advisors. Grand Maester Samwell Tarly not only participated heavily in the meetings, but also transcribed what was discussed for records. The new High Septon was also there, along with Lord Varys as the master of whisperers, the acting Hand of the Royal Family Ser Davos Seaworth, the Lord Commander of the Royal Guard Greyworm, and the Lady of Winterfell Sansa Stark, who was there while Bran Stark ruled the North in her absence.

Despite it being the evening, the sun shone so fiercely into the chamber one could think it was just past noon. After living his entire life in freezing temperatures, Jon had never imagined there could be days this long and warm. During the harshest times of winter, especially far north, daylight was fleeting. The sun peeked out from behind the horizon for a few hours a day but hid back in a hurry. Here, however, it set late and rose early, and its rays shone so bright that they bounced back up when they hit the sea, a striking blue blanket eternally stretched. They even helped resurrect the thousands of naked trees which winter had mercilessly undressed. Jon had never seen such a colorful sight before. Now, it seemed foolish to have insisted, when Spring started, to keep on using his cloak: it felt like a token of the Stark blood in him. But it had become so unbearable he had been forced to stop using it. Just as the other men in the council, he was only wearing a tunic now. Spring was a time of change, even in the smallest details.

“The Faith of the Seven, the old gods, the Drowned god…people should be free to practice the beliefs of their choice,” said Daenerys, who still followed certain dothraki beliefs despite her beginning to adapt to the Westerosi ones. Her back was straightened while one hand rested on top of the other. Sam’s quill scratched the parchment quickly during her pause, writing her words down. “And there will be a change of rules, here in Westeros,” she nailed her gaze into Jon’s. “No more bastardy.”

Jon’s eyes widened. Daenerys had hated bastardy from the moment he had told her about it, about how people around him - even his own family - treated him, about how the Night’s Watch had been one of the least bad ways of life he could have chosen. He was Jon Targaryen now, though, legitimized by the aid of the High Septon’s diary, a written proof that Rhaegar and Lyanna had been wed. However, he and Daenerys had never discussed this reform before, so hearing these words from her had been a sweet surprise.

“Your Grace,” Ser Davos intervened. “While I agree with you about how…how _nefarious_ bastardy is, I don’t think it will be easy for people to get used to this. ‘Tis part of the westerosi mentality.”

And just like that, the sweetness of her surprise transformed into an inevitable worry. Davos had a point: could it even be possible to root out such a massive custom?

“They _will_ have to get used to it,” she insisted. “The oppression of illegitimate children does not exist in Essos, nor Dorne, and they’re doing quite well without it, aren’t they?”

The council stayed silent. Did they agree with her? Jon was sure most of them did. Davos and Varys were low born, they knew the difficulties of not having a title nor a land. Sansa knew how limited Jon’s options had been, limited enough for him to take the black. Sam knew so as well, and his family had treated him like a bastard, if not worse.

He realized Daenerys was looking at him, waiting for his response.

“Your Grace?” she raised her eyebrows softly. Her voice and eyes hinted a slight tone of plea. The silence must have been particularly uneasy for her.

Jon gave her a nod. “There shouldn’t be any more bastardy, Your Grace. However, it…it will be difficult. People have lived with it their entire lives.”

The last thing he wanted to do was to contradict her. She was doing this for him. He fought the feeling to embrace her and thank her, at least for a second, but those gestures had to be saved for when they were on their own.

“But change will _have_ to come if we pass this law, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “With the following generations, at least. They will come into the world with this reform.”

Jon hoped so with all his strength. He thought about Aemon, their son, and how he wanted him to grow up in a world completely different from the one he and Dany had grown up in. A just world. A good place to live. One he could call home. While it was true that a period of peace was blooming in the Seven Kingdoms, many harmful customs from the past still remained. How _good_ did things have to be for there to be, undoubtedly, peace?

However, the room remained silent. Sam’s quill had stopped. Sansa scratched her cheek. It seemed like everyone was doubting the Queen’s proposal. They might all disagree with bastardy, but implementing her law would be _bloody_ difficult!

“Your preaching will have to change, from now on,” Daenerys broke the silence herself, with both her hands pressed together, looking at the Septon. “Through religion, if you preach love and respect to everyone, people could learn to accept this law. And if we cannot change the mentality of the older generations, the children will be our hope. Now, my Lords, my Lady, what do you think?”

Jon held back a smile. _What do you think?_ Daenerys asked after every proposal, something she did not usually do in the past. Orders, period. That was the Mother of Dragons’ reputation. He knew, though, that if someone as small, mince and young as her had not been iron-handed, she might not be where she was now.

‘The war is over,’ Jon had told her as they lay together in bed during one of their first nights as King and Queen. ‘During war, we give orders. ‘Tis the way it should be. There's no time, no space for doubts nor discussions. If we order to attack one place, or to defend another, it must be done. But in times of peace, Dany, in times of peace…we have to listen to others, because we won’t always be right.’

She looked at him, with both hands between her cheek and the pillow.

‘If we want to be better rulers,’ he continued, ‘we _must_ listen to what others have to say: what they lack, what they need, their opinions on _our_ ruling. As my father used to say: _i_ _n times of peace, reason must rule, not authority_.’

Daenerys smiled, ‘Your father and his wise teachings!’

Jon exhaled a laugh.

‘But, Jon…if we ask them what they think about a…law, for instance. Won’t we seem slightly…meek? Insecure? Bad rulers? If we are to earn respect…should we allow them to tell us what to do?’

‘They won’t tell us what to do,’ he rubbed the back of his fingers on her arm. ‘They will respect us because _we_ respect them, because we listen to them.’

Her gaze dropped to the mattress, thoughtful.

‘Don’t you think a leader needs to inspire fear?’

Jon pondered on it, frowning, ‘In times of war, authority is the only option. A soldier must comply with what his commander tells him, there's no time for questioning. But…when a leader is harsh, when the commander is harsh, people will hate them. I can assure you that.’

Her gaze went back to the mattress.

‘They will be waiting for the moment you turn around to stab you in the back. But if you listen to them…if they _feel_ listened…’ he shut his eyes as he exhaled, inevitably thinking about his stabbing. ‘They won’t. They will respect you. And more points of view will help us make better choices. What do you think?’

Daenerys lay back against the mattress and looked up at the roof.

‘I think that…giving up full authority, it’s not easy. But you and I, together, have made better choices than the ones I’ve made on my own. I’ve made terrible mistakes. On my own, I don’t think I could have won the Great War.’

‘Aye, I wouldn’t have won it without you either. We won because we fought it together, didn’t we?’

She nodded. ‘But, on the other hand, I’ve had some poor advisors…’

He chuckled, ‘Not all of them will be geniuses, but we must, at least, listen to them…and learn to pick out the good advice.’

She turned to him again, curling her body as she watched him.

‘Jon, do you remember,’ she smiled, ‘when was the first time you had…a voice in a political discussion or…decision or…just a _voice_?’

‘At the Watch.’

She smiled and rested her hand on the side of his face, caressing his beard with her thumb, slightly tickling him.

‘And you?’

She dropped her hand to the mattress.

‘With Drogo.’

‘With Drogo?’ he frowned. Hadn’t she been sold to him? Hadn’t her brother made every decision for her, about her future, about her body? Didn’t Drogo use to _rape_ her? It did not sound like a scenario where she had a voice, she was being held there against her will. But then again, the Night’s Watch was a place where he had not been free either. It seemed like in a place without freedom, they both found it for the first time.

She nodded. ‘I could make decisions on my own…for the first time in my life. And how good did it feel!’

He mirrored her smiled, ‘Like how?’

‘Drogo and our Khalasar had taken a Lhazareen town from another Khal. To celebrate, his dothraki took many women…and raped them.’ Jon grimaced. Daenerys nodded and held his hand between them. ‘I couldn’t stand it. I took the women as my slaves so they would not touch them. The men complained, and they hated me a bit, but I did not give in.’ Jon pressed her hand. ‘It was the first time I made a decision on my own. I’m almost certain. No, I’m certain.’

‘Did you feel respected?’ he asked her, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

‘Very much,’ she smiled.

And in a very low voice, he said, ‘Do you remember what happened to me when I let the Wildlings pass south of the Wall against the will of the rest of the Night’s Watch? When I did not listen to them? When I did not explain myself further and just gave commands?’

Her smile faded away and her eyes dropped to the scar in his heart. She let go of his hand, and her fingertips grazed the scar.

The High Septon only nodded after her question, though, and said, “Whatever you say, Your Grace.”

“We want to know your opinion, High Septon.”

His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath. “My opinion is…there are certain sins we cannot tolerate. Infidelity, for one, is a grave one. Would we be…” he frowned, and his already wrinkled forehead split into a thousand more crooked lines, “condoning it?”

Jon shook his head, “Infidelity _is_ a sin. It is dishonesty, after all. But children must not pay for the sins of their parents.” He noticed Daenerys nodding in the corner of his eye. “Lord Varys, your opinion?”

“Thank you for asking, Your Grace,” he replied. “If I may…you will gain enemies from many Houses. Legitimate sons will feel threatened. The titles, the lands they are supposed to inherit…the _illegitimate children_ will be able to inherit them now. This cause will not be supported.”

Again, silence. Jon searched for Daenerys’ gaze, which, pinned to the table, showed nothing but insecurity and perhaps even a hint of embarrassment for having proposed such law without giving it much though. The silence was torturous. Jon rested both fists on the wooden table, trying to think about something to say to make her feel better. He wanted to console her: _This is what these meetings are for_ , _to think things through_. Her pale fingers, intertwined, were pressing each other so fiercely they were turning pink. Daenerys looked up at him and he gave her a tiny smile, a tiny thank you. While it was true that her intentions were good, genuine, implementing them would be anything but easy.

“Bastardy is shit for society,” Davos was the one to break the silence. “I’m sure we all can agree on that…”

“But…?” Daenerys asked with fluttering eyelashes.

“But…” Varys said. “We cannot pass a law this…this _drastic,_ Your Grace. The people, especially the powerful ones, won’t agree to it.”

She turned her head to Jon, but her gaze was still locked on the table, as if she were trying to find an answer in the worn-off wood. He wondered how many monarchs had stared at it in the same way before.

“Every culture has their own customs and traditions. I know," she said. "I've worn floppy ears for too long. Some things, however, _are_ wrong. I don’t want bastardy to survive our reign.”

“We could go slow, then,” said ser Davos. “Step by step over the years, until we reach full legitimization.”

Jon noticed their vocabulary: _‘We,’_ they said. Not _‘You,’_ the monarchs.

Varys nodded, “That would be wise.”

“Any ideas, my Lords, my Lady?” Jon asked.

Sam, who had stayed silent so far, cleared his throat. “Your Grace,” Jon would never get used to him, Sansa and Daenerys calling him that way. “The process of legitimization…it’s quite cumbersome and difficult to get done.”

“Easing into it could be a start, then,” Daenerys agreed.

Varys continued, “Moreover, the crown _and_ the Faith of the Seven could make a proclamation rejecting this injustice. What the monarchs and priests say can serve as a moral compass for the people.”

“It would be more complicated in the North,” Sansa said. “The old gods have no priests, nuns, nor sacred texts. Their beliefs are only passed down from mouth to mouth.”

Daenerys bit her lower lip and nodded. Jon rubbed the back of his neck, thoughtful.

“Then you are our only chance in the North,” Jon nodded. “Lady Sansa, we are confident that you can help sow the seed of equality in the North.”

Sansa gave him a hesitant nod. It was impossible not to notice doubt in her expression. It was not an easy task.

Daenerys nodded, finally in a more confident way, “It could be a good start.”

“Aye,” Jon said. “It could be.”

"Let's take some time, then,” she continued, “To educate the people, to try to change, even a bit, the mentality about bastardy. Little by little, we will strengthen the law.”

It was a small step, but Jon was already thinking about ways to strengthen it in the future. It could be passed only for newborns at first, to avoid conflicts with adult children who feel their land and titles threatened. Both parents could have the obligation to provide for the child as well, as many fathers forgot about their children and left the mothers, usually whores, to provide for them themselves.

“We have your support then?” Jon asked the room.

Everyone, including the High Septon, nodded.

Suddenly, Aemon’s cries reached their ears, and Jon and Daenerys’ gazes met. The cries got closer by the second, as Daenerys rushed to the door. Missandei showed up with the babe in her arms.

“Your Grace, Your Grace,” she greeted both monarchs. “He woke up.”

Daenerys took Aemon in her arms, wrapped up in a sheet, and started rocking him softly from side to side. Jon walked over to them, trying to think of how to help. Daenerys had told Missandei to interrupt her if Aemon woke up and cried for his mother, no matter if she was busy.

“It’s alright,” she told Jon when she noticed his willingness to help, her voice was barely audible next to Aemon’s cries from his strong, new lungs. “You need not worry.”

The rest of the council waited for the babe to calm down. Jon pulled out a chair for Daenerys to sit on. Once he was quiet again, she dried his tears with the back of her fingers. Jon stared at his son, forgetting for a second they were at a political meeting, hoping with all his strength that the life he had would be infinitely better than his and Dany’s, hoping that he, when his time to rule came, would ensure peace and justice in Westeros as well. His thoughts were cut off when Daenerys looked up at the rest, saying, “Shall we continue?”

Jon nodded and looked at Sam, “A statement of the crown to the people of Westeros…”

And the maester began to write down the King’s words...

**Author's Note:**

> **Hi everyone! I haven't watched Season 8 from GOT so please don't write anything about the content in the comments! Thank you :)**
> 
> * * *
> 
> About the fic, Ned never said that line about authority/reason. It was actually a life lesson from a professor of mine in uni. He always talked about war and peace, and how leadership must change in those times. I would love to see Jon and Dany learning to rule together in an environment of peace, but if there are only 6 eps left…eeeee i don’t think we will be able to see it.  
> So, I’m starting a series of drabbles and one-shots of moments of peace and joy in Jon and Dany’s future: Targlings, smut, fluff, politics, etc etc etc. If you’ve read other fics of mine, you know I’m a sucker for happy endings, peace, fluff, joy…anything that ends Jon and Dany’s suffering, which they’ve had enough in canon. I have eight prompts for this series so far, three are already in the oven. EDIT: I've seen this one-shot has a bunch of subscriptions, but they will be posted in separate one-shots, not as a multichap, so subscribe to the series as a whole! :)  
> Spring has finally started where I live! There couldn’t be a better inspiration to write a series of moments of spring in ASOIAF than doing so outside under the sun and my doggie running around!  
> The next one will be out soon! Thanks a lot for reading!


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